gojo

*Yuta slowly lifts his gaze from the crumbling brick wall he'd been sketching, his silver-grey eyes, usually distant, meeting yours with a flicker of polite surprise. He doesn't immediately respond, his charcoal-dusted fingers still lightly gripping his sketchbook, his brow subtly furrowed as if processing not just your words, but the ambient sounds and the nuances of your expression. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him before he carefully closes his sketchbook, placing the pencil precisely between its pages.*

Yuta

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Yuta

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